Fall Into The Sky
by KaceyS
Summary: On a cold Winter's night, two lonely souls meet through the frost on a window. [drabble] JackxElsa. review for more
1. Window

Mother used to close the windows on frosty Winter evenings.

I don't know why she bothered. It was apparent in the days after I'd attacked my sister that they kept a wider girth from me than ever before. Mother still hugged me, but Father opted for running his thick fingers through my hair. I craved the warm affection because it was clear I couldn't offer any in return. My skin, fair and soft, felt chilled to anyone who touched me. I couldn't provide the warmth of a secure hug on desolate winter days.

I was sitting in front of my vanity, eight-year-old fingers tangling endlessly to imitate the braid my mother styled her hair in. My own platinum blonde hair never grew the way I wanted it to, with choppy long locks instead of the cute, innocent fringe Anna effortlessly pulled off, braids twisted into beauty behind her head. She didn't know I knew though. It had been weeks since I'd been in the same room as her, let alone braided her hair, or felt her warmth as I summoned snowflakes before her bright blue eyes.

"Mother, why do you close the window? You know it won't make any difference."

"Just because you can't feel him, doesn't mean Jack Frost won't come to visit if you don't close your window."

Mother turned from the window to me, striding over to help me with my braid. "Your hair is such a beautiful colour."

I pouted into the mirror, seeing a very sad, quite upset girl in response. I felt too melancholy to adore my hair colour today.

"Who's Jack Frost?" I asked curiously.

She smiled, dextrous fingers pulling apart strands of hair and weaving them together into a beautiful arrangement.

"He's the spirit of Winter. He travels around the world to begin the cold season."

"Oh, are there other spirits too, for Summer, Autumn and Spring?"

Mother tilted her head, picking up some pins to secure my braid in place, "Not that I know, dear one."

"Can I meet him?"

"Elsa," she said quietly, placing a hand on my shoulder. I stared into her eyes through the mirror. I could tell by the tone I wasn't going to like the answer. "It would be better right now if no one knew of your powers. Not even a lonely spirit like Jack Frost."

I breathed out a sigh and nodded my head, "Okay."

That night I was brushing my hair out of it's knots as I passed the window and stopped to observe the night. The black trunks of trees branched out in spidery webs carrying icicles and thick blankets of tundra. The moon peeked out from behind the greying clouds to dust the mountains with glowing blue crystals of frost. I was about to go to bed when I noticed something strange between the shadows. With growing fear and wonder I made out the silhouette of young man, a shadow darting between the trees.

I should have been afraid, but instead of running to the other side of the room like my brain was telling me to, I opened the window.

I was both disheartened and relieved when I couldn't see him anymore.

About to close the window, I almost screamed when the frost on the window started manipulating itself. It was as if someone was writing on it. A slim-tipped finger wrote in block-like text, a misspelling, five characters which spelled out 'hello'.

"Hello?" I repeated into the open air.

I sat on the window sill, waiting for some response from the invisible entity. The wind of the night howled, and for a moment, I thought it whispered to me. It was a gentle caress against my ears, nipping the shell and encasing me with a sense of delight.

_Hello,_ said the wind.

I knew it was ridiculous, but instead of fearing the talking wind I laughed because it kept mispronouncing the greeting.

**"Hallo,"** I said again.

_(Norwegian - Hello.)_

The wind whispered to me again, but the sound was foreign and I couldn't understand it, unable to tell if it was the howl or because it was speaking in a tongue I couldn't understand.

_Can you hear- oh wait… __**Kan du høre meg?**_

_(Can you hear me?)_

I couldn't understand the first half of his sentence, but I managed to catch onto the end. **"Ja!"** I grinned into the open night, stopping the urge to clap my hands. **"Hva heter du?** **Er du Jokul Frosti?"**

_(Yes! What's your name? Are you Jack Frost?)_

**_Ja. _**_What's your na- ah… I mean- __**Hva heter du?**_

"Elsa," I told the foreign ghost.

_What is the word for… let's see if I can remember._ **_La oss være venner?_**

_(Let's be friends?)_

**"Foreldrene mine sa 'ikke snakk med fremmede'."** I said, despite being completely fascinated by the thought of a Winter ghost taking the time to talk to me.

_(My parents said not to talk to strangers.)_

The wind replied, somehow managing a more sombre tone compared to the words before. _I'm sorry, little lady, I'm not fluent enough to understand that. _**_Kanskje neste gang_****?**

_(Maybe next time then?)_

"Yes," I said. I gripped the frame of the window, blood thrumming with so much excitement that a thin layer of frost materialised across the lacquered wood. "Goodbye, Jack Frost."

**_Ha de bra, Elsa, _**the wind rustled my hair, blowing it about playfully before letting it go.

_(Take care, Elsa.)_

From that point on, even on the coldest nights, I kept the window open.

* * *

**a/n: **I am sorry for the atrocious Norwegian, but I just couldn't believe there was no language barrier when Jackson Overland comes from Pennsylvania, and Arendelle is based of a Scandinavian kingdom.

To my new readers, hello! My name is Kacey, but you can call me Kace if you'd like. Please review, favourite and follow. I like all the things. Anyway, this my first story uploaded to a different fandom since 2011. Pretty exciting for me! I've fallen hopelessly in love with the Jelsa pairing. Sorry, not sorry.

This is an update when ready story. No specific timetable is in place.

**Cheers.**


	2. Touch

"Elsa."

I sat up, frigid, as the familiar baritone echoed through my mind and sent shivers down my spine. I didn't even notice the curve of my lips, stretching like taffy into a full blown smile. The delight the voice brought overrid my mortification at being caught outside in the snow, making snow angels in the middle of the night.

I looked around repeatedly, trying to find the speaker. I faced forward again, instinctively covering my mouth when I saw him, hanging upside down in front of me suspended by nothing.

"Jack," I said.

He swung from his ever-present staff, lips mirroring my own grin. I flushed, covering my nose and mouth with intertwined fingers, hiding my ridiculously wide smile. He settled down to sit next to me, and I felt the warmth of the body he didn't believe existed anymore. That was new. I'd never felt warmth from Jack before, beyond the special feeling that welled up in my heart when he was near.

"How've you been, Snowflake? Wow, look at you. How old are you now? Forty?"

I had a rather immature urge to burst out laughing, but instead I continued to smile. Conceal, don't feel. At least. Don't look like a total imbecile. "I'm fine, thank you, Jack. And I'm fourteen this Winter."

He lowered an eyebrow and my eyes trailed from his bright blue eyes to the corner of his smirking lips. "You don't act like a fourteen-year-old. You've been thirty since you were twelve."

"That doesn't make sense," I replied good-naturedly.

"Well, let's take your hair for example."

I reached up self-consciously, pressing my fingers into the braids. "What's wrong with my hair?"

He obviously saw that he upset me because he placed his hands up in a 'woah' gesture. "It's pretty, Elsa, it is- it's just… Maybe if you let it down sometimes…" he reached up to take my braid away from the pins, running his hand through my unruly bangs until they stuck out at weird angles. I didn't care. I was enthralled by the feeling of his fingers running through my hair, and my skin sparking where his trace still lingered. He was warm.

"Jack, you-"

Jack's eyes trailed from my eyes to his hand in my hair and I watched as they widened like glowing moons. "I-Oh my god. I'm _touching _you!" I felt his excitement, energy thrumming as he gripped my wrists. "I'm not phasing through you anymore. I-"

I didn't realise what had happened until I was holding Jack's frozen wrists in my hands. He had pressed his lips to mine, gentle but sudden, I still panicked and bit his lip.

Jack let out a yelp, pulling back because my wrist was fused to his. He looked down at it, thawing it quickly with his superior powers. My mind was a whirl of several different streams, all surrounding the sensation of warm lips on mine, as much ironic as it was wondrous. My lips were tingling, and my face was on fire- something I definitely didn't feel often.

"I-" he said.

I got up, running my hands through my mussed hair. _Hair mused by Jack's fingers._ "I think I should return home now."

"Elsa," he said, sounding sad and guilty at the same time.

"I'll…" I know I shouldn't assume others should bend to my will, even if I'm a princess, I felt like Jack needed the guidance right now, possibly more than I did. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

He sighed in relief. When I looked back he had one hand on the back of his head, looking back at me over cheeks reddening with long-dead blood.

"Y-yes. Good night."

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**a/n:** Thanks so much for the follows and favourites guys! I definitely wasn't expecting that kind of response.

**Cheers.**


	3. Suspension

"Jack, I- _please..._ I need some time to think it over."

"Snowflake… I know I can't ask it of you, but I at least want you to know. All I have to do for you, is do the same thing that you did to your sister."

"I've asked you not to bring that up."

"But- If I suspend your heart in ice you won't freeze, because of your power. You will stay exactly as you are, twenty-one forever."

"And… No one else? What about Anna?"

"I'm _sorry,_ Elsa. You _know_ how it goes. Anyone else would merely… die."

* * *

**a/n:** Sorry for the shortness, but I needed to get this issue out of the way. It really breaks my heart, you know.

**Cheers!**


	4. Braid

**fall into the sky ・ **_braid_

* * *

Something that I noticed, sitting on the windowsill of Elsa's window (always open) was that she took fifteen minutes everyday brushing and braiding and constructing her hair. Sometimes more.

Don't think me a total creep, okay? Elsa realised that I was there the very first night I appeared. From that point on I left her snowflake on the window whenever I stopped by and she wasn't there. If she was in her room, then I'd knock and she'd always greet me with her typical Elsa smile, all bright blue eyes and lips dark by ever-present frost.

Most mornings I stopped by to say hello she was sitting at her vanity twisting platinum blonde strands into intricate patterns.

"Morning," I said, sitting down on the window sill.

"Good morning, Jack," she replied, regarding me with the elegant little side glance she was so fond of. It was apparent from early on that Elsa didn't like to meet people's eyes. She did this thing where she would look at me first, look away, and then try to glance again when she thought that I wasn't looking.

The time blended together for me. Days, months and seasons, measured by the sky, and the changing colour of the trees. So I often guessed Elsa's age by her height. I asked her only when I had to leave, how old she would be when the holiday came to a close. My deep-seated instinct to bring winter to the world cloaking the desire to be near her kindred soul.

Adoring Elsa and seeking her time was difficult after all. There were many things a princess need learn before her time to rule began, an age I dreaded, because she would have less time for me than she had to begin with.

And despite her increasing studies and busy schedule, she always took her time when it came to her articulate hair, the braid she had spent so long perfecting.

"I don't understand why you're so hell-bent on making it perfect," I told her, striding behind her and pulling a small strand out of her perfect braid.

_"Jack,"_ she whined in irritation, pulling out her ribbon and beginning the braid anew. She snapped her head to the floor and I really looked at her, really tried to discern her age.

The only real comparison I had to discern the age of a little girl was…

Elsa was older than her though. Two years at the very least.

I'd settle on ten.

"Jack, you left frost on the carpet," Elsa said. I looked down, surprised.

How was that possible?

"Don't worry, Snowflake. They're gonna melt in and disappear."

"But-"

"So why do you put so much effort into your hair? Prissy-Miss Marian give you a hard time while you're studying?" I teased lightly, holding onto the back of her chair. It was hard to believe I'd made friends with a princess. Sometimes I forgot, but now- looking at the silver embossed craftsmanship of her vanity chair alone- it was hard to put out of my mind that she wasn't just an awkward little ten-year-old.

This young girl would grow into a queen.

"Don't speak about my teacher that way. It's disrespectful. It's this way because that is the proper way for a queen to present herself," Elsa answered, reciting words from a book, no doubt. As she said this, I saw her already-perfect posture straighten even more, and she narrowed her eyes in the way I'd seen believable superior individuals stare down at peasants.

I bit my lip and floated in front of her, sitting on her vanity so both of my feet balanced on the arm rests of her chair. She harrumphed at me, looking adorable angry as she tried to look around me.

If she didn't believe, she'd have no problem, of course.

It filled me to the brim with joy that she could.

"A queen needs to look her best self," Elsa told me, relaxing back into the chair. She was so short, her eyes level with my chest. I leant forward and flicked her between the eyes, but my finger phased through her forehead, and she simply kept on reciting, "A princess must be neat, proper, and polite."

"Which is why I saw Anna cartwheeling down the corridor the other day."

"I can't _be_ like Anna," Elsa cried, voice filled with anguish. Her right hand came to rest over her heart. "Anna's… Anna's loud, and immature, and never focuses on anything but playing and fairytales."

I stayed silent, knowing I'd crossed some kind of line. I was about to apologise, but Elsa calmed herself down, looking down at her wringing hands and breathing in deeply, muttering something to herself. Snowflakes had materialised in her palms and were starting to stick to her skin.

I reached forward so I could wrap them in my own, but my hands phased through her. She shuddered, and backed away a bit. I stared at her guiltily.

"I…"

"I like your hair… down like this," I said, distractingly. Her hair was completely down, curled at the ends, draping over her tiny shoulders like silk.

"It feels weird," she said to me. She reached behind her head and dextrously pulled it into a messier braid, free of the mirror. While she was doing this, she kept blowing her fringe out of her face cutely. In the end she ran her fingers through it, and it assembled itself into a chaos of platinum blonde.

"I like it," I said approvingly. She stared at me imploringly, and I floated aside so she could see her reflection.

Her face fell. "Jack. Mother will never let me go to class with this hair! It looks like I woke up like this."

"What? It looks cute," I insisted. She moved to pull her braid into a bun, and I tried to swat away her fingers. When my hand phased through her own she stopped fiddling with it. I sighed and placed my finger near her hair. A big solid snowflake started materialising at the nail tip and I used the ice to push it into the groves of Elsa's braid. I did this several times until her hair was laced with snowflake clips made out of slow-melting ice.

"It's pretty," she admitted, astonished. She stood up and turned to me, unable to fully word her gratitude. "But Mother will never..."

"Elsa," I said sternly, waiting for her to trail off. "Let it go."

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**an: **Guys, if you're bored you should write on my wall. There's a link on my profile.


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